


Once Upon a Wintertime

by iam93percentstardust



Series: Christmas Movie Challenge 2019 [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst with a Happy Ending, I am Mayor Cliche, M/M, MHEA Holiday Movie 2019, Omega Tony Stark, Road Trips, welcome to trope city
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21825778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iam93percentstardust/pseuds/iam93percentstardust
Summary: Look, Bucky knows that he’s fulfilling every cliché in the book right now. He knows that, as a bodyguard, he’s not supposed to fall in love with his client. But Tony’s good and sweet and so, so lonely and how could Bucky not? He thinks he’s got a shot after Tony breaks up with his boyfriend but on a trip across the country, he finds out that Tony needs a bondmate or the board will steal SI—and Ty’s already said yes.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Series: Christmas Movie Challenge 2019 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1839016
Comments: 81
Kudos: 965
Collections: Great stories, MHEA Holiday Movie Challenge 2019





	Once Upon a Wintertime

“What do you mean there’s no more flights?”

“Just that, sir. All flights through New Year’s Eve have been booked.”

Bucky doesn’t sigh. Because that would be rude and he knows the woman at the desk is just doing her job. It can’t be easy having to deal with the hundred-odd or so passengers whose flight was just cancelled. He admires the fact that she’s still got a smile pasted on her face even if it _is_ beginning to look a little strained.

“Fuck,” he mutters. He fishes out his wallet. She glares at him.

“I cannot be bribed,” she snaps.

For a moment, he just stares at her. Then it clicks. “No!” he says hastily. “Just wanted to say thanks for trying.”

The beta’s face clears, a look of cautious delight appearing on her face. “Oh!” She glances toward one of the security cameras. “Um, we don’t take tips.”

Bucky nods understandingly and continues counting out a hundred dollars. “Right, of course not. But I could just leave a few dollars here, yeah? Merry Christmas.” He walks away before she can stop him. As he had suspected, she doesn’t bother calling after him and when he turns around, the smile on her face is a lot more genuine than it was. She looks up at him wonderingly. He winks and makes his way to the car rental agency.

Of course, they’re also booked for the holiday. He tips the man at the desk just as generously, even though he was a lot ruder than the other beta. Well, he probably deals with worse customers, what with being the last hope of the stranded passengers and all.

He ends up settling on a bench in an out of the way corner. He’s got a text from Steve, asking him to let him know when his flight’s just about to take off. Groaning, he raises the phone to his ear.

“Buck!” Steve says delightedly. “Getting ready to board? Peg’s excited to see you. I’m sure Sarah would be too but she’s, ya know, only a month old.”

“No, um, sorry.” Bucky sighs. It won’t get any easier to tell him if he waits but that doesn’t mean that he’s ready to tell him. “I won’t be coming.”

There’s silence from the other end of the line, long enough that he pulls his phone away from his ear to check. “Storm’s got you grounded?” Steve says eventually. “We knew it was coming in but it was supposed to have blown over by yesterday so we didn’t say anything. Didn’t want to worry you.”

“It’s fine,” he says. “I’ll try to see what I can do about getting there for New Year’s but supposedly all the flights are already booked.”

“What about a rental car? We’re still four days out from Christmas.”

Bucky shrugs even though he knows Steve can’t see it. “Checked already. Last rental was checked out five minutes before I got to the desk. Sorry, Stevie. You know I would’ve left earlier but Tony had the Maria Stark Foundation gala last night.”

“It’s fine,” Steve replies. Bucky can still hear the disappointment he’s trying to hide though.

“It’s not,” he says frustratedly. Sure there’d been unforeseen circumstances and never in a million years would he want to leave Tony alone during an event like the gala. There’s never enough protection at those things. “I wanted to see Sarah and—”

There’s a very quiet “Bucky?” from a few feet away. He glances up briefly and then again longer when he realizes Tony Stark is standing there.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he mutters into the phone and hangs up. “What are you doing here?” he asks Tony. He doesn’t mean to sound rude but the entire reason he’d been okay leaving Tony without a bodyguard for two weeks was because he’d said that he wasn’t going to leave the house (it still isn’t ideal, not with all those windows facing the ocean, but it’s better than nothing).

Tony shifts uncomfortably, gaze darting over the crowd. He’s wearing a baseball hat and sunglasses. Clearly, he doesn’t want to be spotted. Bucky can’t blame him after the disaster of Afghanistan two years ago. He reaches out and pulls Tony into his little alcove when he takes his hand.

“I had a board meeting this morning,” Tony murmurs as he sinks down onto the bench. Bucky’s eyes must flash because Tony grins and says, “Video call, Bucky babe.”

“I knew that,” he snips and Tony laughs.

“Of course you did.” His smile fades away. “Um. The board said they want me mated by Christmas or they’ll take the company away. And Ty said he couldn’t make it out here so I thought I’d go to him.”

Bucky doesn’t quite know what to say. It wouldn’t be right for him to say that if his omega was begging him to mate with him, he’d drop everything to be there. That seems pretty par for the course for Stone though. He doesn’t like Tiberius, he never has, but Tony’s known him since they were kids. Stone had been the one potential alpha Howard Stark had ever approved of and so Tony had stuck with him after the car crash that had killed his parents. They’d broken up a few months ago but clearly, they must have gotten back together if they’re bonding. Bucky hadn’t been around for most of it, just the breakup. Instead, he’d heard about it from the guy who’d hired him, Tony’s (Fore)Head of Security, Happy Hogan.

“But the flights were cancelled,” Tony continues, clearly not noticing Bucky’s thoughts.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I’m grounded too. Looks like we’re stuck here.”

Tony looks a little startled. “What? No. I’ve got a rental car. I need an alpha to drive it though.”

Bucky’s look is sharp. Omegas aren’t allowed drivers licenses but— “I wouldn’t have thought that would stop you.” He can’t even count the number of times Tony’s insisted on driving, relegating his driver either to the passenger seat or to another car entirely. Pepper says it’s happened less since he became Tony’s bodyguard, which kind of scares Bucky a little because it still happens a lot.

Tony blushes. “Iputyournamedownontheform,” he says in a hurried rush.

Bucky takes two seconds to try to sort through his sentence and then says, “Nope. Try again. In English this time.”

“You’re not funny,” Tony tells him.

“Fuck you,” Bucky says casually. “I’m hilarious.”

After a moment, Tony says, “I needed an alpha to put down on the rental form. I was in a hurry and I didn’t want them to think I didn’t really have an alpha. Your name was the first one I thought of. I don’t know; I was just planning on driving it anyway but then I saw you over here. Seemed like fate, you know?”

Bucky’s stunned silent. This is great—perfect actually even if Stone lives in Manhattan and Steve won’t leave Brooklyn. Tony clearly takes his silence to mean something and hurries to say, “I know you don’t want to spend the next couple days with your boss but it’s only a four-day drive. I promise you won’t have to deal with me for too long.”

That’s not…actually the problem Bucky’s thinking of.

The problem is that at some point during his eighteen-month employment with Stark Industries, he fell deeply in love with Tony Stark. It sounds like _such_ a cliché and he knows that but he just couldn’t stop himself. Tony had been so lonely after Afghanistan. Stone hadn’t wanted to move to California with him and Stane had just been arrested so Pepper had been moved into the CEO position and Colonel Rhodes had been alternating his time between deployment and D.C. Sometimes, Bucky thinks that Tony had accepted the bodyguard proposal in the hopes of making a friend. He’d been pleased as punch that they were willing to hire a one-armed vet (he’d realized later that Tony had always had the intention of giving him the metal arm and that had given him all sorts of warm fuzzy feelings).

They’d clashed a bit at the beginning. Tony hadn’t seemed to want a bodyguard. Bucky had thought that he was just dealing with another spoiled, rich omega. But it had taken Bucky all of three days to figure out that Tony had been worried about his bodyguard getting hurt. Before then, he hadn’t given the files Happy had given him about Afghanistan more than a cursory glance so he could understand what the arc reactor was but he’d taken the time to do so then. Once he’d realized that every single one of Tony’s guards in the convoy had been killed during the attack… Well, Tony pushing him away had made a lot more sense.

And once he’d realized how sad—how _lonely_ —Tony was, how he’d made sure that Pepper and Rhodes were far away from him so they couldn’t get hurt, it hadn’t been hard at all to fall in love with him.

“Bucky?” Tony asks. He’s letting off the scent of _worried omega_ , which tells Bucky just how worried he is if the scent blockers aren’t stopping it.

“Sorry,” he says. “Yeah, driving to New York with you sounds great.”

He must not sound excited enough because the furrow between Tony’s eyes doesn’t disappear. “Are you sure? If you don’t want to go with me, I could just give you the car. I don’t want you to feel like I’m trapping you.”

“Tony,” he says firmly. “It’s your car. I don’t want you to lose SI cause you gave me your rental.”

“I’m sure I could get to New York another way,” Tony protests weakly but his scent’s faded and he takes several steadying deep breaths. “Okay. New York. I’ve got a route here.” He pulls out his phone. “J, talk to me.”

“Good morning, sir,” JARVIS says politely. “Sergeant Barnes. The fastest route to New York will take 41 hours.”

Bucky doesn’t jump when he hears Tony’s AI through the phone but it’s a near-miss. He met JARVIS on his first day but he hadn’t realized Tony had put JARVIS in his phone. He’d thought he was just in the house. Tony’s thumbing through the map.

“Can you give me the southern route? Don’t like the looks of those storms.”

“Certainly, sir. The southern route will add an additional thirteen minutes to your travel time.”

Bucky leans over his shoulder to peer at the map. “Albuquerque might be a good stopping point for the night. JARVIS, how long should it take us to get to Albuquerque?”

“A little over twelve hours. Shall I make a reservation?”

“Sure,” Tony says. The screen goes dark. “Twelve hours. Long day ahead of us.”

“Hand me the keys,” Bucky tells him. “I’ve seen you drive and I’m not letting you take us through the mountains.”

Tony pouts. “Spoilsport.”

Bucky has to physically restrain himself from freeing Tony’s lower lip with his thumb.

* * *

He quickly comes to realize just why it was a mistake not letting Tony drive and the reason is this: Tony has a major obsession with Christmas music and insists that if he’s forced to ride shotgun, then he gets to pick the music.

“Mannheim Steamroller?” he asks as Tony begins tapping on the dashboard along with the drums in _Deck the Halls_.

“Shut up,” Tony says, blushing. “They’re a classic.”

“Yeah but this is the second album that you’ve played so far. You know some of these songs are repeats, right? Don’t you get tired of listening to them?”

Tony gasps and clutches his phone to his chest like he’s trying to comfort it. It’s not nearly as effective as if he were holding a CD but they’re using the Bluetooth on Tony’s phone to hook up to the car. So, you know, he’s working with what he’s got.

“You can’t get tired of Christmas music,” Tony insists. “It’s impossible.”

“Come on, doll. I’d even take your shitty rock music over this.”

Tony’s silent for a long moment. When Bucky looks over at him, he shakes himself, flashes a quick grin at him and says, “AC/DC isn’t shitty. It’s classic.”

Bucky grunts and goes back to the road but the melancholy look in Tony’s eyes stays with him for the next several hours.

* * *

“J’s got us reservations at Hotel Albuquerque, which is great apparently cause it’s in the Old Town and they’re decorated for Christmas. Or at least, that’s what JARVIS says,” Tony announces a few hours later. They’re now on the fourth Mannheim Steamroller album and Bucky’s absolutely convinced that he’s tired of hearing these songs, no matter what Tony says. But Tony’s got a bright, beautiful smile on his face so he stays silent.

They’re currently stuck behind a semitruck going a lot slower than the speed limit and has been for the last thirty miles. Unfortunately, there’s another driver next to them who apparently thinks it’s funny to speed up like he’s going to go around the semi only to slow down as soon as Bucky moves over. He’s decided that it’s less stressful to stay behind the semi. Eventually, the other driver will have to get bored of his game and move.

It doesn’t mean it’s not irritating in the meantime. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel for a few seconds, remembers that Tony doesn’t like it when people are angry, and stops.

“We could watch a movie,” Tony suggests.

Bucky doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “Still driving.”

“No, I know. But I just thought I could play it and you could listen. I know you’re getting a little tired of the Christmas music.”

“I don’t mind,” Bucky argues. “You like it.”

“Bucky. There are two people in this car.”

He shrugs. It really doesn’t matter to him what they do, so long as Tony’s happy. Yeah, it’d be nice to listen to something other than Mannheim Steamroller but he’ll listen to it as long as Tony wants to.

Tony fiddles with his phone for a moment but all that happens is that the music cuts out in the middle of _I Saw Three Kings_. “What’s in New York?” he asks.

Bucky, fully prepared for the sounds of a movie and not a question, misses what he said. “Hmm?”

“Family? Friends? A mate I somehow missed hearing about for the last several months?”

He laughs. “Just friends. My best friend and his mate just had a baby so I’m going to visit them.”

“Oh yeah?” Tony asks cheerfully. “Girl? Boy? Name? Thoughts on second gender?”

“Girl. Sarah. Steve’s pretty sure she’ll turn out to be an alpha.”

“Parent’s intuition or does he know her scent already?”

“Both. Stevie’s got a pretty good nose. He thinks he’s getting hints of books and leather.”

“Mom always said she could smell I was an omega but Howard used to say that she’d only been guessing.”

Tony’s got one of the strongest scents Bucky’s ever smelled—lavender and chamomile. Even the scent blockers aren’t always enough to keep his scent neutral. He wouldn’t be surprised if Maria, Tony’s beloved mother, had indeed been able to tell that he would present as an omega or that Howard, who, according to Happy, had only ever seemed to be interested in Tony for what he could bring to the company, hadn’t.

He knows that Tony doesn’t mind being an omega, loves it actually. Tony’s said multiple times that being an omega is who he is and there’s nothing that he would change about it. He doesn’t even seem to mind the heats, to the point where he refuses suppressants. “Why should I have to suppress just because some alpha doesn’t want to have to learn control?” he sniffs. The ability to handle omegas in heat had, in fact, been one of the determining factors in Bucky’s appointment.

He steals a sideways glance at the omega, unable to wonder what’s going through his head. Is he resentful that the board’s forcing a mating on him? Is he relieved that Stone will finally bond with him? Is he nervous?

Bucky’s pretty sure he knows the answer to the first question. Omegas don’t exactly have a lot of rights (or else Bucky wouldn’t be driving this car right now) and Tony’s never been particularly quiet about the issue of omega rights. Technically, he should have been mated three years ago when he turned twenty-one or he wouldn’t have been able to gain control of the company. But his parents had both just died and the board hadn’t wanted to force the issue on a grieving omega. They’d accepted him as long as Stane had been available to mentor him.

It’s small wonder that they’re forcing the bond now that Stane’s arrested. He’s almost more shocked that they waited this long.

There’s more music coming from Tony’s phone. He listens to it for a moment and then says, “Are we watching the Nutcracker?”

“ _Barbie_ in the Nutcracker,” Tony corrects with a giggle.

“Tony.”

* * *

He drives them the entire way into Albuquerque. Tony had, of course, managed to end up with the most fuel-efficient car the rental agency had (“Money talks, Bucky boo.”) and so they only stop for gas twice. It would have been only once but Tony had insisted on more snacks.

It’s well-past dark by the time they reach the hotel. Old Albuquerque is still well-lit for the season but the shops have been closed for an hour. It’s fine though. Tony’s sound asleep in the passenger seat.

Good. He needs it. SI’s launching a new phone in time for Christmas and Tony’s spent the last three days frantically working to get all the bugs sorted out. Bucky doesn’t think he’s slept more than five hours in that time. He leaves the car running while he runs inside to check in. It’s not the safest option and he never would’ve done it if he was on duty but he doesn’t want Tony to get cold or have to wake him up so he can bring him inside.

He takes advantage of the bellhop offered with the intention of carrying Tony inside. Tony, he knows, can sleep like the dead once he’s finally asleep but is also nearly incapable of falling back asleep once woken up. He doesn’t want to take the risk of waking him so he instead lets the bellhop grab the luggage while he pulls Tony into his arms, shifting him into a bridal carry. Tony curls into his chest, one hand grasping weakly at his shirt. He tosses the keys to the valet and then follows the bellhop inside, Tony breathing deep and even in his arms.

Just barely, he hears one of the concierges cooing about how cute they are. He makes a note to go back after he’s got Tony settled to make sure she didn’t take pictures. That’s the last thing Tony needs when he’s trying to bond with someone else.

He gets them in the room, puts Tony on the bed closest to the window, takes off the omega’s shoes, and then stops. The problem is he doesn’t actually have the right to remove Tony’s clothes for him. It would certainly be more comfortable for the omega but he’s not Bucky’s. He doesn’t want Tony to wake up and think that Bucky’s trying to take advantage of him.

He ends up just covering Tony with the sheets, thinking that he’ll deal with it after he gets back from the concierge. Luckily, she hasn’t posted the picture and she’s willing enough to delete it after he explains that he’s Tony’s bodyguard, not his mate, even if she does look kind of doubtful about it. He thinks about trying to keep explaining it to her but it’s not like he owes her an explanation. They’ll probably never see each other again. What does it matter to him if she thinks he’s lying about them not being mates?

When he gets back to the room, he discovers that at some point Tony woke up enough to undress, judging by the clothes dropped on the floor. Almost against his will, his gaze trails up from the pile of clothes to the omega sound asleep in the bed, hands curled around the arc reactor. Tony apparently didn’t wake up enough to find his pajamas, if the bare shoulders are anything to go by. Bucky’s dick perks up at the sight. He drags his eyes away from Tony’s shoulders to glare at the bulge in his pants.

Maybe a shower will clear his head. He doubts it—even Tony’s shoulders are pretty attractive—but it’s probably worth a try. He fishes out his pajamas and a toothbrush and then heads into the bathroom, thinking about Steve naked because that’s always a great way to get his dick to calm down.

 _Who cares about Steve naked?_ Tony’s _naked out there_ , his traitorous brain reminds him.

“Shut up,” he growls and turns the water to cold.

* * *

Tony insists on driving the next day, license or no license. So Bucky takes revenge for the Mannheim Steamroller of the previous day to play the entire Christmas discography of Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

“Joke’s on you,” Tony informs him. “Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s the _best_.”

* * *

“My favorite fruit is plums, Stevie and I have been best friends since we were in kindergarten, and I have two sisters.”

Tony hums softly. They’ve turned the music down though it’s still playing in the background—some sort of Christmas jazz station Tony picked out. “The two sisters,” he says eventually.

Bucky grins. “Yeah. I’ve only got one.”

“What’s her name?”

“Becca. She lives in New Jersey with her mate.”

“Eww,” Tony whines. “Who wants to live in Jersey?”

“You know, sometimes I forget that you grew up in New York and then you say things like that.”

* * *

“Truth or dare.”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to moon the next car we pass.”

“…truth then.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Or maybe I just don’t want to get arrested.”

“Live a little, Bucky babe.” Tony takes one hand off the wheel to tap at the arc reactor thoughtfully. “Who was your first kiss?”

“Steve was,” Bucky says promptly. “We were both fourteen. He’d just presented as an omega. I presented the year before. Everyone thought we were going to end up together so we thought we’d try it.”

“And how did it go?” Tony asks teasingly.

“Well, Stevie’s mated with someone who isn’t me so how do you think it went?”

Tony laughs, bright and cheerful. “You never know,” he says. “Rhodey was mine and I liked it just fine.”

Curiously, Bucky says, “I didn’t know that.”

Tony shrugs. “I presented late—eighteen, you know. I was working on my PhD and Rhodey was finishing his undergrad. When my heat hit, Howard wanted to hire someone to get me through it but I asked Rhodey to do it instead. We had an apartment together; the entire thing was practically my nest and he was already there so it just seemed natural.”

“So he was your first everything,” Bucky says quietly. There’s a small, jealous monster rearing its ugly head inside his chest. He beats it back. Tony doesn’t need to know that he’s jealous he wasn’t his first knot.

Tony nods, “Yeah.”

It’s quiet for a long moment. The only sound in the car is Idina Menzel singing _The Christmas Song_.

“I’m glad he was,” Tony says suddenly. He’s tapping on his chest again. Sometimes, he does that when he’s thinking hard; but usually, it’s because he’s nervous. It’s obvious that this time he’s nervous. Bucky wants to reach over and grab his hand, make him stop, tell him that there’s nothing to be nervous about. Bucky’s not going to judge him.

“I don’t think Ty would have been so gentle,” Tony says, voice barely louder than a whisper. Bucky frowns and starts to open his mouth. Tony quickly continues, “Ty’s great, don’t get me wrong. But he likes things to be a little rougher—which is great, really! I just don’t think I would have liked that for my first time.”

“Does—” He stops.

He just—he doesn’t know what to say to that. Tony doesn’t sound entirely convinced that he likes the rough sex. He wants to ask if Tony hurts when Stone knots him, wants to tell him that Tony’s preferences are okay too. He doesn’t know why they broke up other than a vague “We just aren’t compatible anymore,” but this makes it sound almost like Tony had been hurt during their relationship. But maybe he’s letting his dislike of Stone color his thoughts. Maybe Tony really does like it rough. Maybe the fact that he wants Tony is impairing his judgment. Maybe he should stop thinking about Tony’s sexual preferences and accept that Tony’s his own omega who’s supposed to be getting bonded this week.

* * *

“LET IT GOOOO, LET IT GO, WHEN I’LL RISE LIKE THE BREAK OF DAWN!” Tony belts out.

“THIS ISN’T A CHRISTMAS SONG!” Bucky yells over the song.

Tony glares at him and shouts even louder, “FUCK YOU, IT’S SET IN THE MIDDLE OF WINTER! —THAT PERFECT GIRL IS GONE! HERE I STAND IN THE LIGHT OF DAY! LET THE STORM RAGE ON! THE COLD NEVER BOTHERED ME ANYWAY!”

* * *

They switch seats after lunch and Tony promptly puts on _Miracle on 34 th Street_. “I normally watch this right after Thanksgiving,” he says, “but I didn’t have time to with the StarkPhone release.”

Bucky likes the movie; he always has. It’s not his favorite—that honor belongs to _White Christmas_ —but he does enjoy it. But he can’t quite get into the movie when he’s still thinking about— “ _Frozen_ isn’t set during the winter. It’s set in the summer and Elsa turns it into winter.”

Tony glares at him again. “It counts.”

“It really doesn’t. It’s Disney’s attempt at getting a holiday movie without doing any of the work, made exclusively so they could sell toys and get their songs stuck in people’s heads.”

“Why, Bucky Barnes, that is so incredibly cynical of you. _Frozen_ is a wonderful movie about sisterly love and—”

“It doesn’t even tell the fairytale properly,” he argues.

Tony’s frowning. “It doesn’t have to. Fairytales are oral traditions that change depending on who’s telling the story.”

Bucky glances sideways at him. “ _The Snow Queen_ is less than 200 years old.”

“Anderson published it under the title “New Fairy Tales” so it counts,” Tony insists stubbornly.

Bucky turns away, pretending to check his side mirror so that Tony doesn’t see the grin on his face. “…still could have chosen a song from _Olaf’s Frozen Adventure_ ,” he mutters.

He can sense Tony stilling beside him. For a moment, there’s utter silence. Then—suddenly—Tony’s slapping at his arm. “You asshole!” he howls. “You know all about _Frozen_!”

Bucky can’t stop himself from laughing uproariously.

* * *

“Have you ever shared an omega’s heat?” Tony asks apropos of nothing.

Bucky takes one look at the serious look on Tony’s face and reaches over to turn the radio off. “A few times,” he admits. “What brought this on?”

Tony shrugs and fiddles with his tablet. The back of his neck is glowing bright red like he’s embarrassed. Bucky knows that if he waits long enough, Tony will tell him what’s going on in that big brain of his. Sure enough, eventually Tony says, “I don’t really remember what sharing one with Rhodey was like.”

That’s not unusual. An omega’s first heat is usually their worst. It’s highly recommended that they go through it with someone they know, even if it’s a purely platonic relationship, because it’s so much easier on a desperate omega. Bucky hadn’t brought Steve through his first heat, not with Steve as sickly as he had been back then, but he probably would have if Steve had been up for it.

“Just—does it hurt?” Tony asks.

Bucky freezes. There’s a scared note in Tony’s voice and he’s forcibly reminded that the omega’s only twenty-three. “Does what hurt?” he asks slowly, praying that Tony’s not asking what he thinks he’s asking.

“Knotting during heat.” Tony’s voice is barely above a whisper. That blush on the back of his neck has spread to his cheeks and he ducks his head. “It’s never worked out that Ty’s around for my heat so we’ve never shared one. I know that bonding induces a heat and I just wanted to know if his knot will hurt.”

He doesn’t say the “like it usually does” but it’s plain in his tone just the same. Bucky thinks back to a few hours ago when Tony had mentioned that Stone likes it rougher and how he’d wondered if Tony liked it rough too. He should have pushed for an answer then instead of keeping quiet so he didn’t embarrass himself. It’s so clear by the way Tony’s hunched in on himself that he _doesn’t_ like it rough. Fuck, Tony’s been with Stone since he was nineteen and if he doesn’t even remember the one heat he’d shared with Rhodey, has he ever had a time when knotting didn’t hurt?

“ _No_ ,” he snarls, too harshly if the way Tony shrinks further is any way to judge. “Knotting should _never_ hurt and if it does, then the alpha is doing it wrong.”

“…not the omega?”

“Never the omega,” he says firmly. “If it hurts, then he didn’t open you up enough, didn’t get you slick enough.”

“But I’m supposed to produce slick.”

“Yeah and the more aroused you are, the more slick you’ll produce, so it’s his fault that you aren’t aroused.”

“It doesn’t make me a bad omega?” Tony asks quietly.

Tony loves being an omega. Bucky knows this but he also knows that there are a whole lot of people out there who would call him a bad omega: whether it was for running the company on his own or not settling down and mating immediately or the push he’s been leading for omegas’ rights. Hell, they call him a bad omega just because he’s not demure and quiet.

“No,” he says. “You’re not a bad omega.”

* * *

Tony’s asleep again, which is the only reason Bucky feels comfortable singing along to _O Come, O Come Emmanuel_. It’s some sort of acapella arrangement by a men’s choir and he drops easily into the bass line. He’s well into the third verse when he realizes that he’s been joined by a soft, sweet tenor voice.

He looks over at Tony, who’s still got his eyes closed, but is singing along. It takes him a second to realize that Tony’s singing in Latin though, not English. He’s silent for a moment, listening to Tony sing, but then the omega cracks one eye open to peek at him and he joins back in. He doesn’t know the Latin words, making it a little awkward but Tony doesn’t seem to mind that he’s singing in a different language so he doesn’t mind either.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs when they’re done.

Tony smiles and snuggles deeper into his seat. “You should hear yourself.”

* * *

JARVIS directs them to a bed and breakfast in Springfield, Missouri. Tony’s driving again, listening to Jim Carrey sing _You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch_. Bucky’s stretched out in the backseat, dozing off and on. It’s a long drive and the parts of Texas and Oklahoma they’re driving through are incredibly boring (and stinky; Tony had complained loudly about the air conditioner not doing after the first minute of driving through cow country).

It isn’t terribly late. Bucky had woken them both up early so that they could be on the road no later than six this morning. “J?” Tony calls softly. “You up?”

“For you, sir? Always,” JARVIS replies, just as quietly. Bucky appreciates that. He’s slipping back into sleep and hates it when he’s abruptly woken up. He’s not a heavy sleeper, not since he was medically discharged out of the army, and startling awake is the _worst_. He doesn’t get nightmares much anymore but it’s still always an adjustment to figuring out where he is when a loud noise wakes him up.

“What are some Christmassy things to do in Springfield?” Tony asks.

There’s silence for a fraction of a second and then JARVIS says, “The local ballet studio is putting on _The Nutcracker._ ”

Even with his eyes closed, Bucky can just imagine the twist to Tony’s mouth as he replies, “Let’s not do that one.”

“Very well. There is also Candy Cane Lane.”

“What’s that?”

“It appears to be a drive-through light display.”

Tony thinks about it for a moment. “Yeah, okay, let’s go with that one. How long until we get there?”

“Twenty-one minutes to reach the hotel and a further eight to the park.”

“So we could probably just go to the hotel after the park then,” Tony muses. He raises his voice. “I know you’re still awake back there. How does Candy Cane Lane sound?”

Bucky gives up on further sleep and sits up. He climbs back into the front seat. “Sounds like a good time,” he says, voice still rough from sleep. Beside him, Tony stills and then shivers. “You cold?” He reaches over to turn the heat up and, for good measure, turns the heated seats on as well. It’s starting to snow outside and the cold’s starting to seep in through the windows; he doesn’t want Tony to get chilled.

“Yeah,” Tony says a little breathlessly, squirming just a bit in his seat.

He frowns. Tony’s reaction doesn’t seem quite right. “You doing okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Tony repeats. “Just ready to switch drivers.”

* * *

Candy Cane Lane’s pretty cute but Bucky remembers his parents taking him and his sister to Austin’s Trail of Lights when they were younger. That had been a lot more impressive. Tony doesn’t seem super impressed either though he clearly enjoys it a lot more—which isn’t terribly surprising. Tony’s a lot more enthusiastic about Christmas than Bucky is. But then again, he suspects that Tony hasn’t had a lot of Christmases in his life. He refuses to begrudge him this one.

There’s a hot chocolate stand near the end and Bucky gets them both a cup. “Sorry you didn’t like it as much,” he murmurs as he passes the cup to Tony.

Tony shrugs. “It’s fine,” he says easily. “I wasn’t expecting anything like Rockefeller Center or anything.” He drains the cup in a few swallows and tosses it away. Bucky would be impressed (that hot chocolate is _hot)_ except that Tony drinks his coffee like that too.

“So you’re one of _those_ New Yorkers, huh?” Bucky teases.

Tony glares playfully at him. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Ya know, kinda snobby. I already knew you were a bratty Omega but the snob thing’s new.”

Tony stops dead in his tracks, open-mouthed. Bucky ducks his head to hide his grin and keeps walking. He’s really glad that Tony doesn’t see any problems with becoming friends with his employees or else that statement would have been really awkward. As it is, he’s not entirely certain he hasn’t overstepped—

Right up until a snowball lands directly between his shoulder blades, knocking him forward two steps. He fumbles the hot chocolate but manages to catch it before it falls. He turns back to Tony, slowly so as to let him feel the force of his scowl (“murder glare” the guys in his troop had called it). Of course, it doesn’t even remotely work on Tony who’s hiding a laugh behind his gloves.

Right then. Okay. Two can play at this game. He carefully balances the cup on a bench and then bends down to scoop up a handful of snow.

“Bucky, wait. No,” Tony says, laugh dying away but he doesn’t look upset so Bucky doesn’t stop. “I, your boss, command you to stop.”

“Do you now?” he asks. “See, I hear ya but the snow dripping down my shirt isn’t makin’ me too happy.”

“Oh no,” Tony whimpers and then yelps as Bucky’s perfectly crafted snowball comes flying his way. It hits him square in the chest. He stumbles off-balance and sits down hard in the snow. “Wow. Rude. I have never been so offended.”

Bucky laughs before dodging the snow Tony flings at him. It’s not even packed into a ball. He sends another one back. Tony manages to dodge this one and so it flies right by him and smacks right into the child standing with his parents a few feet away.

“Shit,” he mutters.

Tony gasps. “Watch your language!” he says. “There are children!” He throws himself backward so that he’s looking at the child upside down. “Sorry about that. Bucky just has no manners, at all,” he says very seriously and very sincerely. Bucky snorts.

The child doesn’t look upset at all. In fact, he screams, “Snowball fight!” and promptly dumps a huge pile of snow on top of Tony’s face. Tony splutters. Bucky falls to his knees, he’s laughing so hard.

“I’ll save you, sir!” he wheezes out through his laughs.

He can just barely hear Tony’s muttered, “Traitor.”

There are some thirty children running around throwing snowballs at each other now. Bucky gets hit by four snowballs in the time it takes him to crawl to Tony’s side. He collapses onto his front and pillows his head on his arms to look at Tony on his back. The omega’s still covered in snow so Bucky props himself up on his elbow and reaches over to brush it away from his face.

“Wouldn’t want you catching a cold,” he murmurs, brushing more off. Tony’s cheeks are pink with cold, eyes crinkled from the huge grin he’s sporting. “There’s that pretty face.”

Tony catches his breath, his hand coming up to loosely encircle Bucky’s wrist. Bucky wants so badly to bend down and kiss him but Tony’s not for him. He’ll never be for him. He’s Stone’s and, even if he weren’t, a billionaire has no business mating with a lowly soldier. Tony deserves better than him.

He smiles, sure that it’s just a touch too sad, and stands up. “You ready for dinner?” he asks, stretching a hand down to offer him help standing.

* * *

“There must be some mistake,” Tony says flatly, eyeing the bed like it’s going to attack him. “JARVIS, there’s two of us. Why is there only one bed?”

“Apologies, Sir,” JARVIS says smoothly. “You didn’t request certain accommodations so I found the first room available.”

“I didn’t—?” Tony gapes. “I don’t remember programming you with sass.”

“As you say, Sir, at every possible moment.”

Bucky chokes back a laugh. Tony whips around to look at him. He shrugs helplessly. “I’m sure there’s another room available somewhere but this one’s available _now_ and I’m tired.” And if he wants one night sharing a bed with the pretty omega, well, who’s going to call him out on it?

Tony’s eyes dart toward his left shoulder. “Is it aching?” he asks. “I never considered cold weather when I was designing it.” He moves closer and runs his hand around the smooth metal panels. “It certainly _feels_ cold. Is it like that on the inside?”

He looks so worried. Bucky wants nothing more than to wrap him up in a blanket and hold him close. “It’s fine,” he says reassuringly. “You did a great job. I just don’t wanna be out in the cold lookin’ for another room when we’ve got one already.” Tony bites his lip. “If you’re really worried, I can sleep on the floor.”

Tony eyes the thin rug stretched across the hardwood and then the king-sized bed. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he says. “We can share the bed. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’ve been told I’m a bit of a cuddler.”

“I won’t be uncomfortable,” Bucky promises. Whether _Tony_ might be depends entirely on how they wake up tomorrow morning but that sounds like a problem for Tomorrow Bucky. Tonight Bucky wants to go to sleep beside the omega he loves and pretend for just five minutes that there’s any chance in the world Tony could be his.

They go to sleep on opposite sides of the bed.

They wake up hopelessly entangled together. Bucky wakes up first, a good five minutes before the alarm’s set to go off. Normally, he sleeps on his side but at some point, he’s shifted to his back. Tony’s half-draped across him, leg resting over his, head pillowed on his chest, and hand clenched in his shirt. For his part, Bucky’s got one arm around Tony’s shoulders and the other resting low across his hips.

Tony’s breathing shifts and, before Bucky can get them separated, his eyes blink slowly open. He tilts his head up to look at Bucky and smiles sleepily. “Good morning, hot stuff,” he whispers.

He greets Bucky like this every morning. It’s always been a joke, _their_ joke. But it’s never been said like this, draped across each other, whispered like there’s something soft, something sweet to it. “Morning, sweet thing,” Bucky whispers back, the endearment slipping out before he can stop it.

Tony’s lashes flutter closed and he breathes out a soft sigh. His scent blockers must have worn off during the night because the scent of lavender and chamomile fill the room, tinged with happiness and something else that Bucky doesn’t know how to describe because he’s only ever smelled Tony like this when Stone’s around. It’s heady and distracting. He wants to smell it every day for the rest of his life.

Almost unconsciously, he presses down more firmly on Tony’s hips. Tony’s breath hitches. Then he purrs and rolls his hips forward just the slightest bit. That intoxicating scent grows stronger. Bucky’s heart skips a beat.

“Tony,” he whispers. The omega slowly opens his eyes again. They’re blown dark. A shiver goes down Bucky’s spine.

Tony bites his lip, wide-eyed and so beautiful it hurts. He’s just starting to open his mouth to say something—though Bucky can’t imagine what—when one of the phones rings. The two of them stare at each other frozen and then Tony scrambles up. His knee lands squarely on top of Bucky’s dick.

Bucky yelps and curls up to protect himself, knocking Tony off of him and to the ground.

“Ow,” Tony complains plaintively.

Bucky winces. That’s not how he wanted this morning to go. He grabs for the ringing phone and stills.

“It’s Stone,” he says.

Tony look wide-eyed at him and then holds his hand out. “Okay,” he says quietly as Bucky passes the phone to him. He takes a deep breath, visibly steeling himself, then gathers up his clothes and goes into the bathroom.

As the door shuts, Bucky hears, “Hey babe.” He doesn’t think he’s imagining the disappointment in Tony’s voice.

By the time the bathroom door opens, Bucky’s dressed and sitting at the desk, counting out a tip for the maid service. He looks up. Tony’s shifting uncomfortably in the doorway. He looks back down.

“It’s fine,” he says before Tony can say anything. “You’re missing Ty, got some nerves about the bonding, it’s natural. Happens all the time. Nothing to worry about.”

He’s lying—to himself and to Tony. It meant something; he _knows_ it did. It has to have meant something because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if Tony says that it didn’t matter.

“Oh,” Tony says softly. Then, even lower, low enough that Bucky’s pretty sure he isn’t meant to hear it, “Sorry.”

* * *

It takes them a while to find their rhythm again. It’s worse now than it ever was when they first met, when Tony was fighting against a bodyguard and Bucky was resentful of a spoiled brat. The first hour in the car’s awkward and stiff, the almost-events of the morning weighing heavy between them. Tony puts on _Home Alone_ but not even Kevin McAllister’s antics are enough to cut the tension between them.

Tony either forgot to take his scent blockers after the fiasco this morning or he’s run out because the car is full of the scent of _distressed, guilty omega_. Every inch of Bucky is calling out to soothe him, to hold him tight and assure him that he’s done nothing wrong, but that would just make everything worse.

He should remain silent, should let Tony work it out on his own. But there’s a reason he became friends with Steve and it’s entirely because he’s got a protective streak as long as the Hudson. Steve’s ma had always said that he needed to be a parent because he’d be a wonderful caretaker.

So when they’re rounding out the first hour and Tony’s scent hasn’t calmed down at all, he says, “It wasn’t your fault.”

Tony startles. “No, I shouldn’t have called you—” he starts to say immediately.

“It’s been a joke between us almost as long as we’ve known each other. There’s nothing wrong with you calling me ‘hot stuff.’”

“I should have told you I might run out of scent blockers. I forgot, not that that’s any excuse.”

“Tony, there were two people in that room. Yeah, you smelled good but I’ll bet I did too.” He hesitates. He doesn’t actually know how much scent he’d been pumping out into the room. He’d been so busy breathing in Tony’s arousal he hadn’t stopped to notice his own scent of pine and snow. He’s never bothered with scent blockers, having never put out enough of a scent to warrant needing them. But he knows that when he’s aroused, his scent becomes a lot sharper. There’s every possibility that Tony had only been responding to his suddenly stronger scent and not to his own urges. The knowledge comes crashing down him, tightening around his heart until it hurts. He desperately wants Tony to want him, not to be responding to a smell lingering in the air. “Neither of us were in our right mind. Look, even Stevie had doubts before his bonding and he and Peggy are the best suited pair I’ve ever met.”

“It’s really okay?”

No, it’s not. Bucky’s heart is breaking and Tony doesn’t even know it’s his fault. “It’s not like anything even happened,” he says quietly.

Tony nods to himself. “Right. Nothing happened.”

Bucky’s heart shatters.

* * *

It’s not perfect after that. Tony’s clearly still a little uncomfortable and Bucky’s devastated. But they make it work. They play Two Truths and a Lie again and it helps to slowly break the ice enough so that they’re almost back to where they were yesterday before they’d fallen asleep together.

“I’m terrified of butterflies,” Tony says. “My favorite color is red.” He gets a mischievous grin and declares dramatically, “And I’m madly in love with you!”

Bucky winces. Tony, with his hand thrown across his eyes, doesn’t notice so thank god for small mercies. But he plays along, teasingly saying, “Clearly it’s the butterflies. Can’t imagine who wouldn’t be in love with this perfection.”

“You got me,” Tony says with one of those bright grins. “I’ve tried and tried but I can’t hide my feelings anymore.”

“I didn’t know you were afraid of butterflies,” Bucky says hastily, changing the subject. He doesn’t want to continue down this line of thinking anymore. This way lies further heartbreak.

Tony waves a casual hand. “Oh yeah. I used to go to daycare, you know, before Mom decided that she wanted me at home. It was one of those daycares that separated kids based on their learning levels—are you walking? Are you potty trained? Can you speak in full sentences?—so I was a few years younger than anyone else in the room, which of course meant that there were some—let’s say some not so nice—kids who thought I’d be an easy target. And one of them gathered up a bunch of bugs, mostly butterflies, so they could get close to me and then throw them in my face. I was right at that age when you were forming phobias and that’s exactly what happened.”

Bucky eyes him. It’s an awfully detailed story to be a lie but Tony’s a celebrity. He grew up telling lies. Besides, he can’t possibly be in love with Bucky. He’s going to New York to mate with Stone.

“Your turn, Bucky babe,” Tony says.

Time for a confession of his own. “My callsign was the Winter Soldier. I’m allergic to bees. And I’m just as madly in love with you.” He softens the words with a smile of his own.

Tony responds with an answering grin. “Is it the Winter Soldier thing? Cause that’s kinda weird.”

“Nope,” Bucky says cheerfully. This is the first one he’s managed to pull over on Tony. “It’s obviously the bees.”

He doesn’t tell him that he’s not lying.

* * *

“What’s your favorite Christmas movie?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“We’ve listened to just about everything that I want to. I want to watch something _you_ want to.”

Bucky casts him a soft look. “That’s nice of you. And here I thought you were incapable of social niceties.”

Tony pouts. “See if I’m ever nice again.”

He laughs, “Okay, okay. It’s _White Christmas_.”

Tony hums thoughtfully. “I don’t know if I’ve got that one.” He thumbs through Vudu. “Nope. It’s fine. I’ll download it.” As the movie starts, he curls deeper into the seat. The soft scent of _delight_ fills the air. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one.”

“It’s a classic,” Bucky tells him. “You’ll love it.”

* * *

The drive to Columbus is nothing but cornfields and signs declaring the end of the world is coming. Bucky hates it. There’s not a single thing to distract him from the way Tony’s scent is pervading every inch of the car. It’s no longer the _upset omega_ scent that it was this morning, though there’s still something slightly disquieting to it, but it wouldn’t matter even if it was. Tony’s scent is Bucky’s favorite scent, upset or happy or anything in between.

Other than the hour they spend playing Two Truths and a Lie, they mostly pass the time watching movies (or listening for whoever’s driving) and playing car games. Tony’s terrible at the games themselves but he’s excellent at cheating when Bucky glances away so they’re reasonably well-matched. Plus, whenever Tony wins, the car fills with the scent of _happy omega_. Bucky wants to keep him smelling like that forever but if he can’t manage that, he can at least manage it for a few hours.

* * *

They wind up in Columbus for the night at some bed and breakfast. JARVIS had apologized profusely for it as it was, once again, a room with only one bed but the only other rooms in the city had been at terrible motels.

“Ew no,” Tony had said immediately and that had been that.

An hour outside of the city, it starts raining. By the time they reach the hotel, it’s all out storming. Of course, it’s just barely above freezing so it’s not snow but it’s ice in all but name. Unfortunately, the front door is a good quarter mile away from the parking lot through a lovely wooded area that’s probably gorgeous during the day but looks vaguely like a murder scene in the stormy night.

“J says it’s not gonna get any better,” Tony informs him. “Storm’s supposed to last most of the night.”

“Right,” Bucky mutters. “Nothing for it. We’ll have to run for it. Leave the bags here. We’ll come back for them in the morning.”

Tony nods firmly, clearly psyching himself up.

“On three,” Bucky says and then counts them down. On three, he shoves out of the car. The wind immediately tries to push him back in but he fights against it. He forces his way past the wind to the other side of the car where he grabs Tony’s hand and pulls him with him. They’re soaked within seconds, their clothes clinging to them, bogging them down as they try to run to the front door. Tony slips on a patch of ice and nearly goes down. Bucky scoops him up, much as he did the first night on this trip, and keeps going.

They reach the front door as bedraggled, woebegone messes, resembling drowned rats more than they do humans. Tony’s shivering like mad against his chest. Bucky’s so frozen he can barely raise a hand to knock on the door. He kicks it instead.

They’re out there for no more than a minute before the door opens but it seems like an eternity. The woman who opens the door is older, steel grey hair with the last vestiges of brown clinging to a few strands. She gapes at the two of them for a second and then yells, “PETER!”

She turns back to them and ushers them in. “I was hoping you two would make it in before the storm. We knew it was supposed to be bad but we didn’t think it would be like this.” She tuts over Tony. “Over here, we’ve got a nice fire going, warm you up a bit.”

Bucky carries Tony over to the fireplace roaring on the other side of the front room. There are a few couples sitting around the fire chatting. They look up in sympathetic horror at the pair before quickly rearranging so that Bucky can settle himself and Tony in the seat closest to the fire.

A young boy darts out of a hallway, carrying several towels. Their host grabs one and moves toward Tony. Bucky snarls, alpha instincts flaring up at the thought of anyone touching his omega.

“Of course,” the woman says and hands him the towel instead. “My apologies.”

He wraps Tony in that one as it’s large enough to fit over him almost like a blanket. The second he uses to dry off the omega’s hair. It’s only after Tony’s shivering has started to subside and his breathing evens out into sleep that he takes a towel for himself. The other couples have gone back to their conversation but their host is watching them.

“Sorry,” he says exhaustedly as the heat seeps into his bones. “Didn’t mean to snap.”

She waves his apology off. “New couples are always like that,” she says easily.

Bucky wants to argue with her but he’s tired and stressed and honestly, he just wants one night to pretend. Tony, more delicate with the reactor in his chest, isn’t awake to argue so he just leaves the comment be. He’ll correct her later.

“Bucky Barnes,” he says.

“May Parker. My nephew, Peter.” She nods at the boy who’s now stealing cookies out of the jar at the front desk. “Did you bring any luggage?”

“Left it in the car. Figured it’d get too wet.”

She hums agreeably. “I’ll have Peter take the golf cart out to grab it if the rain lets up a bit.” She glances at the chatting couples. “You’re the last couple of the night. We thought we’d do dinner once you two arrived but I think we’ll let you get settled in first. I’ve got you set up in the West Wing suite.”

Bucky shifts Tony back into his arms and stands. “You can start without us. We won’t mind.”

May chatters as she leads them to their room, reminding him a little of Tony when he’s on a roll. She tells him about the history of the inn, about her late husband, about Peter. For the most part, Bucky tunes her out, too focused on not dropping Tony because he’s too exhausted. It isn’t until she says with a light tinkle of a laugh, “I was hesitant about renting out to an unbonded couple but I think wedding bells aren’t too far off for you two.”

Bucky nearly messes a step. “What?”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with unbonded couples,” she says hastily. “Ben courted me for nearly seven years before we bonded. But this inn was run by his parents and their parents before them and they were very traditional, always catered to bonded pairs. It was in their will and everything but your—what is he, a butler?—sounded so desperate, I just couldn’t leave you out in the cold.”

“Right,” Bucky says faintly. “Bonded pairs.”

It’s not an uncommon sentiment. A lot of family-owned hotels are like this. In fact, back when he’d been in college, Bucky had run quite a few scams with his friends when they’d gone on road trips and needed a place to stay where they’d pretended to be mated. It’s just that thinking about it in the context of Tony when he’s already heartsore and tired of pretending that he’s not in love…

“Have you started thinking about bonding yet?”

Her question is innocent but involuntarily, his hands tighten on Tony just thinking about the very concept. Yeah, he’s thought about it alright, not that it’ll ever come to anything. “We’ve discussed it,” he says vaguely. She doesn’t need to know that they’ve actually discussed just Tony’s bonding.

“You don’t need to sound so worried,” May assures him. “I can tell you’re going to make a fine alpha for that omega.”

She stops in front of a heavy wooden door. “Room’s through here. I’ll serve dinner in a half hour. We’ll hope to see you down there.”

Bucky’s still a little fixated on the bonded couple thing but he manages a short laugh. “You’ll probably see me. Tony, on the other hand…”

As if in response, Tony lets out a soft snore. May laughs and starts to turn. “If you’ll give me your car keys.” Carefully, Bucky adjusts Tony so that he can slip the keys out of his pocket. They dangle from his fingers just under where Tony’s knees are crooked over his arms. He doesn’t want to hold them out in case he loses his grip on Tony. She doesn’t hesitate to grab them from him and slip them into her own pocket. “In the meantime,” May continues, “I think some of my Ben’s things might fit you. Your omega’ll swim in them but—”

“Tony probably won’t be awake to appreciate them anyway,” Bucky assures her. She gives him an easy smile and then opens the door for them. He thanks her again and then moves inside. His first thought is how very _blue_ the room is: blue wallpaper, blue bedsheets, blue accent pillows, blue curtains blowing softly with the air from the fan.

His second thought is that, once again, there’s only one (admittedly large) bed. He’s known it was coming but it seems so much more real with Tony still shivering in his arms, wet clothes leaving nothing to the imagination.

Just as he did two days ago, he hesitates to take Tony’s clothes off. But, unlike two days ago, he knows that Tony’s running the risk of hypothermia, is probably already on the threshold judging by how quickly he’d passed out after they’d come inside, so he props Tony up against the headboard and gets started on his t-shirt. The jeans are a little bit harder to peel off, especially with Tony incapable of shimmying them down. He takes a moment though to be grateful that being Tony’s bodyguard comes with a certain expectation of occasional nudity (on Tony’s part) or else he would’ve been floored at the first hint of lace the same shade as the arc reactor sitting low on the omega’s hips. As it is, he only needs a moment to file that image away for a time when Tony isn’t half a foot away and then dives back into his battle with the jeans.

He leaves the lace alone.

He gets Tony into the bed eventually and then piles every blanket in the room on top of him. He’s pretty sure that it would be better if he was under there with him to share body heat but he’s not going to take the liberty of cuddling a near-naked Tony when the omega can’t consent to it. He refuses to be that kind of alpha.

Bucky strips off his own clothes and walks into the adjoining bathroom for a hot shower. That’ll have to do to warm him up instead. And if his mind drifts to a certain sassy brown-eyed omega when his hand strays too close to his half-hard cock, well, who’s to know?

He’s toweling off when the suite door opens. He tenses, automatically thinking of the gun left behind at the Malibu house, when he catches the scent of something fruity. That would be the boy, then. There’s the sound of something rolling across the hardwood floor—the luggage he assumes—and then the door opens and closes again.

It takes him all of a minute to realize that he doesn’t have any dry clothes in the room with him. He supposes he could just stick his wet ones back on but that seems like a spectacularly terrible idea to him and the towels aren’t big enough to fully wrap around his hips. He grumbles softly but ends up holding a hand towel in front of him as he awkwardly crab walks into the room, keeping his butt firmly facing the wall as he makes his way to the suitcases so that, even if Tony were to wake up, he wouldn’t see _too_ much. Tony’s still asleep though.

“That’s a good thing,” he tells himself firmly. Maybe, if he keeps repeating it, he’ll believe it. He finds himself unable to quite resist indulging in brushing a soft kiss over the omega’s forehead on his way out the door though.

He just has to follow the noise to find where dinner’s being held. May seems to have gone all out for Christmas, complete with mistletoe above the door, garlands strung across the walls, and a huge live tree bedecked in tinsel and ornaments in the corner. He stands awkwardly in the doorway for just a few seconds before May looks up and smiles delightedly.

“Come in, come in!” she urges him, already standing. He lets her usher him to a chair and then lets her make up a plate for him. “It’s spaghetti and meatballs. I didn’t want to do a Christmas dinner since I’m sure everyone’s going to have one in a few days.”

“Not us,” an omega in a wheelchair comments idly. “Erik’s Jewish.” Bucky follows his besotted gaze to his apparent mate, an omega as well.

May flushes. “My apologies, Mr. Xavier.”

“No harm done,” Xavier says despite his mate scowling. He throws a quick grin at Bucky. “Charles Xavier. That one’s Erik. Don’t bother introducing yourself to him. He’s being grumpy today.”

Bucky can’t stop himself from grinning as well. “Bucky Barnes. Don’t worry, I’m more than familiar with grumpy omegas. Tony’s a marathon sulker.”

“Your omega?” the alpha sitting next to him asks. Bucky knows him. This is Luke Cage, one of the world’s best boxers, which would mean that the alpha sitting next to him with two empty beer bottles in front of her must be his mate, Jessica Jones, a formidable boxer in her own right, which just goes to show the quality of the inn if these two are staying here.

“Tony’s not mine,” he replies and tries to sound like he’s not upset about that.

To his surprise, just about everyone chuckles. “Not yet, you mean,” Charles says. “No need to be modest. We all saw you two when you got here.”

He opens his mouth to reply, possibly to correct them all despite the possibility of getting kicked out for not actually being a couple, when there’s a slight sound of a shoe scuffing on wood. They all look up at the door to see Tony standing there, watching them—or rather, watching _Bucky_ —with a fond smile on his face.

“Tony,” he exclaims, almost surprised to see him down here. He stands and walks toward him. “What are you doing up?”

Tony shrugs. “Got hungry.”

Bucky’s beside him now and he bends down so that the rest of the table can’t hear him when he mutters, “It’s a traditional sort of hotel.”

Tony’s nod would be imperceptible to anyone watching them. “JARVIS told me.”

Bucky smiles to himself. “Should have known you’d be on top of this.”

The omega’s smile is bright and fleeting. “It’s okay. It’s only for one night.”

“Yeah,” Bucky replies, feeling like the air’s been punched out of him. Well, if it’s only for one night, might as well make the most of it that he can. “I hate to do this—” He doesn’t. “—but we’re standing under the mistletoe.”

Tony stares at him for a long second before giving him another, shakier smile. The smallest helpless laugh escapes his mouth. He curls his hands into Bucky’s shirt, leans up on his toes, and presses a soft, sweet kiss to the corner of Bucky’s lips, the sort of kiss you’d give someone once you’ve known them for a very long time. It’s there and gone before Bucky can even think to reply. Then Tony’s pulling away to do the same thing to the opposite corner of his lips before he moves away entirely to take his seat at the last empty chair, leaving Bucky dumbfounded behind him.

“Oh yeah,” he hears Jones mutter sarcastically. “That’s not his omega at all.”

He tries to put her comment out of his mind during the next hour but it’s hard to do that when he’s so proud watching Tony do what Tony does best: charm the ever-loving _fuck_ out of everyone who meets him. Like this with his hair messy and curly, not styled into absolute perfection, in sweats and an oversized flannel, it’s easy to miss that he’s the richest omega in the world and the global expert in clean energy, especially when he refers to himself as just a mechanic. Bucky’s the only one (and maybe Peter, who seems particularly starstruck but doesn’t say anything) who knows that he’s sitting at the table with Tony Stark.

He stretches his arm across the back of Tony’s chair because in for a penny, in for a pound, right? Tony pauses in the middle of his sentence to flash him the sweetest smile Bucky’s ever seen. He can’t quite resist leaning down and kissing the smile off his face. Tony hums, leaning into him.

“So cute,” the beta across the table coos.

He pulls back and drops a quick kiss on Tony’s forehead before returning to his conversation with Cage about the recent talk circulating about letting omegas into the WBA. Cage and Jones are both for it, as is Bucky himself, especially after watching Tony lay Happy flat out on his ass but there’s an awful lot of people against the proposition.

After dinner, a few of the couples head up to their rooms but the rest head back out to the fireplace in the front room. “We could head up,” he offers quietly.

Tony shakes his head. “I like talking to Charles,” he replies. “You can head up though.”

“Kay.” He drops one last kiss on the tip of Tony’s nose. Tony wrinkles his nose but gamely answers with a soft boop to Bucky’s. “Don’t stay up too late.”

“You know me so well,” Tony quips.

“Yeah, I do,” Bucky says. It comes out a lot fonder than usual. Tony’s smile softens and he lifts up Bucky’s hand to kiss it.

He shoots off a quick text to Steve reminding him that he’ll be in New York tomorrow. They haven’t talked other than a quick phone call when he and Tony had stopped in Albuquerque to tell him that he’d figured out another way to get there. He’s been so caught up with what’s going on between him and Tony that he’d nearly forgotten to send the reminder. Steve sends him back a video of Sarah cooing and making bubbles at the camera. In the background, Peggy’s swearing at the strand of lights she’s trying to get on the tree.

“If our baby’s first word is a curse, I’m leaving,” Steve teases. “Isn’t that right, Sarah? Aren’t I leaving with you if Mommy teaches you to curse?”

“I wouldn’t be swearing if you would help me,” Peggy snarls.

“But then who’d entertain our child?”

Peggy snarls again and throws a pillow at him.

The pillow impacts the phone and the video cuts out. He texts back to say that he’d love to FaceTime with them. A moment later, the phone rings. “Hey, Stevie,” he says with a big grin. His gaze falls to Sarah in the corner of the screen, gnawing on her fist. “Hey, you.”

“Buck, you gotta get us out of here. Peggy’s teaching Sarah bad habits,” Steve says but he’s grinning so Bucky doesn’t take him too seriously.

“Oh like you’re not going to teach her how to fight every bully she ever sees ever,” Bucky tosses back at him.

“My ma told me to pick my battles—”

“—So you’re picking all of them, right. I’ve heard that one before. Clint and Tasha coming for Christmas too?”

“And Sam.”

Bucky snorts. “Good. Bird Brain owes me a hundred bucks.” He takes a closer look at the shadows under Steve’s eyes. “Those baby shadows or nightmare shadows?” He knows that Steve still has nightmares about the months he’d spent looking for Bucky after their unit had been ambushed. Bucky gets them too but, for whatever reason, looking after another omega the way he used to look after Steve seems to help.

“Baby shadows,” Steve assures him. “The therapist Sam recommended really helps.”

“Sam having a good idea?” Bucky gasps. “Say it ain’t so.”

“You gotta let this rivalry die down.”

“Never.”

They talk a little bit more before Peggy completely gives up on the lights and tells Steve to do them. It’s an old tradition that happens every year. Peggy insists that she won’t get frustrated with the lights so Steve lets her try. She never succeeds in actually untangling them; it always ends up falling to Steve to do them.

She takes over the phone as Steve goes off to work on the tree. “How’s Tony?” she asks immediately. Peggy’s the only one who knows how Bucky feels about the omega and it’s entirely because she’s the only one who’s figured it out. He’s pretty sure Tasha will eventually—she’s just as quick on the uptake as Peggy is—but they haven’t talked about Tony that much.

“It’s—um—yeah,” he says intelligently. She raises a single eyebrow and waits him out. He runs a hand through his hair and starts to pace as he tells her about this whole trip.

She smiles sadly at him when he finishes. “Duck, you have to let this go. He’s going to be mated in a few days.”

“I haven’t told him yet but I’m quitting after the New Year. You’re right, I can’t keep doing this to myself.” He’s going to miss Tony—he’s going to miss him a lot—but he has to protect his heart. This is the best option for both of them.

Steve makes a triumphant noise in the background. Peggy shakes her head. “I don’t know how he does it,” she mutters. “Bloody monsters those things are. Any thoughts on when you’ll be here tomorrow?”

He shrugs. “Sometime in the evening, probably. Gotta drop Tony off in Manhattan.” They’ve clearly trained her well because Peggy gags the same time as Steve does.

“We’ll hold ornaments off until then.” It’s an old family tradition started by Bucky’s grandparents to do ornaments on Christmas Eve. His parents had upheld it and then they’d opened up the tradition to Steve and his ma when they’d moved into their building and then to just Steve after his ma passed. He and Steve had kept the tradition going once they’d gone off to college, then with their troop. Now Peggy and Steve keep it going with the friends they’ve made: Tasha, who’d served with them, and her mate, Clint; Sam, the Air Force pararescue who’d helped Steve when he was looking for Bucky; Thor, Wanda, and Pietro from their college years; Becca, when she can make it out; Bucky himself. He had invited Tony this year but Tony had just said that he was sure Steve and Peggy wouldn’t want a stranger there with the new baby. He’d tried to push it; Tony had been weirdly insistent on spending Christmas in Malibu though.

He hears the doorknob wiggle. “That’ll be Tony,” he said.

Peggy’s eyes were deeply sympathetic. “It’ll work out,” she promises. His answering smile is more of a grimace than an actual smile but she takes it as one anyway. “We’ll see you tomorrow.” The screen goes dark.

There’s a flush on Tony’s cheeks and a brightness to his eyes that tells Bucky he might have gotten a little deeper into the eggnog than he meant. But his walk is steady and he doesn’t slur when he says, “I’m gonna get a shower,” so he thinks the omega’s probably just a little tipsy. He can’t blame him. It’s been a high stress kind of day and Tony doesn’t get to hang out with other omegas very much. Rhodes and Pepper are both alphas, as is Bucky, and Happy’s a beta. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be around people who don’t share orientations but they’ll never quite experience the same problems. Getting to spend time with Charles and Erik must have been a lot of fun.

He tidies up the room while Tony’s in the shower to keep his mind off the omega and then digs out his pajamas. He’s shirtless and just starting to slide his pants down his hips when he hears a strangled noise. When he looks up, Tony’s leaning against the doorjamb to the bathroom, wearing nothing more than a towel around his lean hips, the arc reactor’s soft gleam lighting the semi-dark room. His eyes are firmly fixed on the trail of dark hair leading to the opening in the alpha’s jeans.

“Tony?” he asks uncertainly.

Slowly, Tony drags his eyes up to meet Bucky’s. They’re dark and strangely heated. He bites his lip and then drums his fingers against the arc reactor. Bucky’s gaze darts down to the reactor and then back up. He’s seen it before but it never fails to astound him that Tony had lived through that, is _still_ living with something that invasive in him. Tony’s still tapping his fingers against the glass covering. He’s nervous, Bucky realizes with a jolt. But about what?

“Tony?” he repeats.

Tony takes a deep, steadying breath and then pushes off of the door. The towel slithers to the floor. Bucky follows its progress and then snaps his eyes back up when he realizes what it means.

The omega— _prowls_ , there’s no better word for it—closer to Bucky, stopping when they’re only inches apart. His hands come up to rest on Bucky’s chest, thumbs drawing small circles around his nipples. Bucky inhales shakily. He doesn’t know what exactly Tony’s up to but he can guess. His hands clench and unclench at his sides, desperate to take hold of Tony’s hips and pull him those last few inches closer.

“You’re drunk,” he whispers.

Tony shakes his head. “Just enough to give me the courage to do this.”

“And what is this?”

There’s a slight hesitance before Tony says, “Asking you to—I want—” He lowers his gaze to where Bucky’s chest is heaving under his hands. “I just want to know what it’s like not to hurt.” He looks back up so the last words feather across Bucky’s lips. “Just for one night.”

Bucky’s heart is breaking, not for himself this time but for Tony. Sweet, precious Tony who can’t even remember the only time when sex didn’t hurt and is completely expecting that it’ll hurt every time for the rest of his life. Tony, who doesn’t deserve that, who deserves the world, and Bucky wants to give it to him but he can’t. Not for the first time, he wonders if Tony will even be happy with Stone but he doesn’t know how to ask without sounding like one of those possessive alphas Tony can’t stand.

“Tony,” he starts to say, not even sure if he’s going to pull Tony in closer or push him away.

Tony slides his arms around his waist and buries his face in the crook of his neck. The whispered “Please” is so soft Bucky almost doesn’t hear it. He’s distracted by the kiss Tony places where his shoulder meets the metal arm. No one looks at the metal arm, not even Steve. But Tony does.

A better man would push Tony away.

Bucky’s not a better man.

His hands settle low on the omega’s hips and haul him in close as he bends his head to capture his lips in a desperate kiss.

* * *

He gentles the kiss almost as soon as it begins, reminding himself that Tony doesn’t want it to hurt. He can’t give Tony the world but he _can_ give him tonight and he’ll be damned if any bit of it hurts.

His tongue traces the line of Tony’s lips before dipping inside for a taste. Tony tastes of the cinnamon cake May had served for dessert and the eggnog he’d drunk. He craves the taste, finding himself mapping out Tony’s mouth, seeking out more of the taste. The omega goes pliant in his arms, opening eagerly for more kisses. Bucky’s helpless to do anything but oblige him. He pulls away, runs the tip of his nose along the length of Tony’s, and then returns to feather another kiss across Tony’s lips.

“ _Bucky_ ,” Tony breathes. He goes up on tiptoe and deepens the kiss, licking inside Bucky’s mouth like he holds the secrets of the universe. His hands move up to wind around Bucky’s neck, holding him too close to pull away. Bucky groans and lets Tony kiss him, kisses him back, slides his hands to Tony’s back to run up and down the length of his spine. Tony shivers and presses closer, his cock a hard line against Bucky’s hip.

Bucky pulls back and presses a line of kisses down the omega’s throat, nipping and sucking as he goes. He avoids going anywhere near the bonding gland, though that doesn’t stop him from imagining the sounds Tony would make if he were to fit his teeth around the gland and bite down. As it is, Tony moans prettily enough when Bucky sucks on a spot near the juncture of his shoulder, hips rolling into the alpha’s. He slides his thigh between Tony’s legs and drops his right hand down to just barely above the curve of his ass to urge him into a rhythm. Tony moves with him, rocking his hips into Bucky’s leg. The metal hand comes up to cup Tony’s jaw, traces a thumb over his lips. Tony promptly turns his head and sucks the metal digit into his mouth with a needy mewl.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Bucky groans, certain that just the _sight_ of Tony is enough to get him off. But he only gets one night and he wants everything he can get.

He bites gently at Tony’s ear. The omega drops his head back, letting his fingers slip from his mouth, and moans loud enough that Bucky spares a thought to hope May installed soundproofing in these rooms.

He pulls away to look down between them where Tony’s still rolling his hips forward. “Pretty omega,” he murmurs. Tony flushes, a reaction that he makes a mental note of. “Can you get on the bed for me, sweet thing?”

“Noooo,” Tony whines.

Bucky laughs. “Sweetheart, I can’t fuck you like this,” he points out.

Tony’s out of his arms and on the bed so fast it nearly makes Bucky dizzy. He laughs again as Tony pouts, motioning for him to hurry up. He strips quickly, hissing as the fabric of his jeans catch on his dick. He strokes it to full hardness, kicking his pants away with one foot. Tony’s propped up on his elbows and watching him, eyes dark pools, breath catching in his throat.

“Like what you see?” he asks.

In answer, Tony spreads his legs, letting Bucky see the slick glistening on his inner thighs, and traces a finger around his rim. Bucky groans and sinks to his knees, grabbing one of Tony’s ankles to pull him down the bed. Tony yelps but it doesn’t sound pained so he wastes no more time in pushing his legs further apart and licking around his rim. Tony arches up off the bed. Bucky waits a moment to see if Tony’s going to scramble away—some omegas don’t like it—but he sinks back down after a moment.

“You can continue,” Tony says, clearly trying to sound casual but it’s belied by the way he’s nearly panting.

Wryly, Bucky says, “Thank you.” But he doesn’t tease anymore, just sucks lightly on Tony’s hole, savoring the taste of the omega’s slick. Tony’s so wet he’s practically dripping, for which Bucky’s grateful. It’ll make this easier on the omega. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told him two days ago that Tony hadn’t been wet enough when he’d been having sex with Stone.

On a more primal note, he wants to howl about how _he’s_ being a good alpha, how _he’s_ the one getting Tony wet enough. _Look at me!_ he wants to yell. _I could be such a good alpha for you, just look at me!_

He buries back the sob threatening to break free from his throat by thrusting his tongue into Tony’s tight little hole, licking out more of his slick, the sweetest thing he thinks he’s ever tasted. Tony whimpers, thrusting his hips down against Bucky’s tongue. He pulls his tongue out, lays a wet, messy kiss against the rim, and bites where Tony’s ass meets his leg. He worries a mark into the soft skin, takes a look at it, and then worries at it some more until it’s dark and swollen. He looks at it again, a thrill going through him at the thought of Stone seeing it at some point and knowing that Bucky’s loved his omega, loved him _better_ if Tony’s reaction is anything to go off of. Though, if he’s being honest with himself, still going off of Tony’s reaction, Stone will never actually see this part of his omega.

He snarls and dives back in, lapping at Tony’s rim until it softens under him, convinced that he’s going to make this the best night Tony’s ever had because he may never get another one like this again. He gets a finger down there, coats it in his saliva and Tony’s slick before pushing just the tip in.

Tony’s muscles seize and he keens, soft and sweet, as he comes, spilling over his stomach. “That’s it, sweetheart,” Bucky coaxes. He pulls his finger out and stands before getting an arm under the omega and shifting him further up the bed. He lays down beside him, petting his stomach soothingly while Tony shivers through the aftershocks, eyes closed blissfully.

“Was that good?” he asks, trying to bury his hesitation under soft words.

Tony hums and opens his eyes. They still look a little hazy. Another small thrill passes through him. “Want you to feel good too.”

He says gruffly, “Tonight’s not about me.”

“Is that so?” Tony asks, mischief lighting up his face. He pushes Bucky onto his back and straddles him. He leans down, body all but rippling as he fits Bucky’s cock between his cheeks, and whispers, “Bucky babe, I want that fat cock splitting me apart.”

For a moment, he’s stunned but he recovers quickly enough, laughing so hard he nearly launches Tony off of him. “Who taught you to say that?”

Tony looks entirely put-out that his tease didn’t work but he too starts giggling after a moment, slumping down to drape across Bucky’s chest. “Omegas have needs too,” he points out. Bucky nearly asks why his alpha isn’t taking care of those but he already knows. Stone’s almost never in California, only for the occasional business trip and what Bucky hesitates to call a booty call but isn’t really anything else.

They stop laughing after a bit and Bucky raises his hands to stroke down Tony’s back again. Tony’s relaxed against him, pliant after his orgasm. His fingers are curled into Bucky’s chest, leaving tiny scratches with his fingernails. Bucky hums and runs his metal hand further down so he can run his finger over the omega’s wet rim. He presses in just barely once, withdraws, presses again. Tony gasps, attempting to writhe on his finger, but Bucky presses him back down with his other arm.

“Let me do this for you, sweet thing.”

Tony’s blush is a thing of beauty that he promptly buries in Bucky’s chest, not that it matters because Bucky can _smell_ how his scent gets just that little bit sweeter. He stops moving his finger though, waiting him out to see if he’ll agree. Some omegas don’t like more stimulation after their first orgasm. He doesn’t know if Tony’s like that but he doesn’t want to take the chance when it’s so painfully clear that Stone wouldn’t stop. He tells himself he won’t be disappointed if Tony pushes him away. He _won’t_.

After a moment, Tony says grumpily, “I didn’t want you to stop.”

He grins and pushes his finger back into Tony’s hole, massaging Tony inside. “Oh!” Tony gasps, cock rapidly hardening. Bucky keeps up with his steady massage, coaxing more slick out of the omega until he can feel it starting to drip between his cheeks. It’s only then that he angles his finger so it scrubs against that spot that makes all omegas moan. Tony’s no exception, tossing his head back and whining.

“Pretty omega,” Bucky mutters. He continues moving his finger against Tony’s prostate in slow circles, alternating pressure between hard presses and soft rubs. Tony moves with him, sloppily mouthing at his neck. He’ll have bruises there tomorrow, he’s sure of it. Somehow, he can’t bring himself to care.

He never takes this long with other omegas but there’s a part of him that likes taking it slow with Tony, likes seeing all of Tony’s minute reactions, likes feeling the way his fluttering muscles clench and relax around him as Bucky opens him up.

“Can you take a second?” he asks. Tony nods frantically so Bucky scoops up the slick that’s leaked out of the omega and begins working in another finger. Tony’s starting to take a more active role, wriggling and whining until Bucky seats both fingers deep in him.

“Do you want to fuck yourself?” Bucky asks amusedly.

It’s the wrong thing to ask as Tony perks up and says, “ _Yes_.” He reaches back and grabs Bucky’s wrist, moving him so he’s thrusting his fingers in and out of Tony’s hole.

“Now hold on,” Bucky says and pulls his fingers out entirely. Tony whimpers. He drives his fingers back in. “Aren’t I supposed to be doing the work here?” He starts teasing a third finger in, flirting with Tony’s rim.

“Weren’t doing it fast enough,” the omega snaps.

“’s that so?” Bucky mutters and starts pushing the third finger in. Tony shivers and pushes back, seating himself neatly on his fingers. Bucky chuckles. “Yeah, you _are_ eager.”

“Want you to _fuck_ me,” Tony complains.

Bucky hushes him. “I ain’t never had such a good omega in my lap, wanna savor it some.” He presses his three fingers hard against Tony’s prostate and Tony—Tony comes again, cock jerking hard where it’s nestled against Bucky’s.

Bucky stops moving, utterly surprised. “Was it the—” he starts to ask but it hits him then. “You like it when I talk Brooklyn, doll?” Tony mews sweetly, cock jerking one last time, and shoves back on his fingers. “Sweet thing, ya shouldda said somethin’. I can talk Brooklyn to ya.” He starts thrusting his fingers in earnest, spreading them, getting Tony ready for his knot. Tony moans, rocking a little with each thrust.

“Bucky,” Tony whispers. His next words trail off into another soft cry.

“What’s that, doll?” He punctuates each word with a sharp thrust.

“Fuck me.”

He drops a kiss to Tony’s sweat-dampened curls. “Can’t do that. My knot’s pretty big. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I’m _ready_.”

“You’re not.”

“I _am_. Bucky, _alpha_ , please,” Tony pleads. “Fuck me.”

Bucky stills. “What did you call me?”

Tony props his chin up on Bucky’s chest. “ _Alpha_ ,” he says sweetly. “ _Please._ ”

Bucky can’t stop himself from pulling his fingers out and rolling them over so Tony’s on his back. He props himself up on all fours and kisses Tony fiercely. “Call me that again,” he murmurs between kisses.

“Alpha,” Tony repeats softly, fondly, with this trusting look in his eyes.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Bucky says desperately. He bends his head down and licks over Tony’s bonding gland. He can’t bite but he wants to smell the lavender and chamomile pouring off of the omega, wants the reassurance that he’s doing right by this omega, the only omega he’s ever wanted. “Tell me I won’t hurt you. Tony, baby, _omega_ , tell me you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” Tony says patiently. Suddenly, there’s a small hand around Bucky’s dick. It’s strangely wet and Bucky’s half-ashamed of how long it takes him to realizes that Tony’s using his own slick to lube him up. _Fuck_ , that’s hot; he nearly loses it right then. “Honey, you took such good care of me.”

Bucky buries his sob against Tony’s throat. “I want to be good for you,” he confesses

Tony’s guiding his cock into his wet hole but he pauses when he hears him. He lets go of Bucky’s cock so he can wrap his arm around his back, hugging him close. The other hand grasps the alpha’s chin and raises it so they’re staring into each other’s eyes.

“You already are,” he breathes. “Alpha, make me yours.”

Bucky groans and snaps his hips forward, burying his cock in Tony’s heat. Tony arches up to meet him, crying out as he’s filled. “Did I hurt you?” Bucky gasps frantically. Tony shakes his head and pets at his hair with shaky fingers.

“So good; Bucky, you’re so good to me.”

Despite Tony’s words, he still stays frozen for a little while longer, letting Tony adjust to his cock. Tony’s tight and warm and wet around him, clenching rhythmically as he starts to relax. He’s absolutely perfect. Bucky doesn’t think he’ll ever get to heaven but he’s pretty sure that this—this is pretty fucking close.

“Move,” Tony demands. Bucky hides his grin in Tony’s neck. Yeah, this is the bratty omega he’s fallen in love with. When he doesn’t do anything, Tony hitches his legs up around Bucky’s hips and kicks his ass. “Move.”

He grinds his hips in a slow circle, making sure that Tony can feel every inch of his cock as it moves in him. Tony keens, arching up to meet his hips.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he mutters. He bends down to kiss him just as he starts to pull out. Tony whimpers; Bucky immediately thrusts back in, guiding them into a rhythm of slow, lazy thrusts. Tony’s lashes are fluttering against his cheek, his tongue chasing Bucky’s back into his mouth. His legs are wound around Bucky’s waist, hands clutching at his back, making small gasps into Bucky’s mouth each time the alpha glides over that spot. Their scents are intertwined, pine and lavender and chamomile and freshly fallen snow meeting together in a perfect blend.

“Sweet omega,” Bucky continues, noting how overwhelmed Tony looks. It doesn’t look like he’ll be able to hold out much longer, which is good because Bucky can’t either. He mouths another kiss over Tony’s bonding gland and, much softer, finishes with, “ _My_ omega.”

He hopes that Tony can’t hear him. Tony can’t know how much he wants his words to be true. It’s wrong, he knows it is. Tony isn’t his omega. Tony is Stone’s and maybe Bucky should feel guilty over the fact that he’s fucking someone else’s omega but he can’t, not when Tony presses into the hand Bucky’s running through his hair with a needy mewl.

Tony sighs something that Bucky can’t entirely catch other than, “—alpha—love—” He’s sure that they’re not the words he wants to hear anyway.

He speeds up, a moan catching in his throat when Tony tightens around him. “Feel so good, honey.”

“You too, alpha,” Tony replies. His nails are little pinpricks of pain on Bucky’s back, grounding him in the moment. “You too.”

They’re really starting to move now, the headboard starting to bang against the wall with thrust. Bucky’s knot is starting to swell, butting up against Tony’s hole with every jerk of his hips. “Can I knot you, honey?” he pants.

“ _Yes_ ,” Tony hisses. He does something with his hips that makes him ripple around Bucky’s cock. Bucky shouts and his hips jerk again. His knot pushes past that last little bit of resistance. It’s perfect— _Tony’s_ perfect, all wet heat and clenching velvet around his sensitive knot. It’s so good and Bucky can’t stop his hips from rabbiting forward, chasing the elusive edge of pleasure.

It only takes Tony drawing him down for one last kiss, soft and sweet in a way they haven’t been since he got the omega into bed, for his knot to swell completely, locking them together. Pleasure rushes through him, whiting out his vision. Tony arches up beneath him and comes for a third time, spilling wet between them, cum smearing on Bucky’s stomach.

“Oh, sweet thing, that’s so pretty,” he coos to the gasping omega.

Tony blinks at him, eyes a little wet, lashes clumped together. “I didn’t know,” he pants.

“Didn’t know what?” Bucky can’t tear his gaze away from the tears gathering in the corners of Tony’s eyes. Oh god, if he managed to hurt Tony after all this, he’ll never forgive himself.

Tony smiles at him and presses a quick kiss to his cheek. “How good it would feel.”

He can’t stop the broad grin from spreading across his face. “Yeah?” he asks. “Was I good for you?”

“Stop fishing for compliments,” Tony tells him with a weak little swat to his arm. He wriggles a little and lets out a quick puff of air. “Oof, yeah that’s stuck good.”

“I could roll us over?” Bucky offers. “Won’t bring my knot down any faster but it’ll probably be more comfortable for you.”

Tony hums, blinking again. He looks tired. Bucky can’t blame him. Three orgasms are bound to take a lot out of anyone. He lifts the omega up a little so he can slide an arm underneath him to support him when he rolls over. Tony snuggles against his chest, inhaling deeply. He’s asleep in moments, flooring the alpha with the amount of trust he’s giving him.

Bucky tries to sleep too but he’s too wound up. He has everything he’s ever wanted in his arms—and he’s going to have to let it all go tomorrow. Involuntarily, his arms tighten around Tony as he blinks back tears. He doesn’t know what to do. He needs to protect his heart but he feels like he’s abandoning Tony by quitting. Part of him wants to plead with Tony not to go to Manhattan but he knows that’s unfair of him. Tony’s been with Stone for years. Sure it raised a red flag in his mind when the omega had said that sex hurts but he’s _seen_ Tony with Stone. Tony hadn’t acted like an abused omega. He remembers how Steve’s ma used to act around her alpha; Tony isn’t like that at all.

He kisses the top of the sleeping omega’s head. “I love you,” he confesses.

Predictably, there’s no answer but he imagines that Tony cuddles closer to him.

* * *

The next morning is—odd. There’s no other word for it. Tony is full of shy smiles and sweet kisses on Bucky’s cheek. He never grabs for the alpha’s hand, which Bucky finds a little weird, until he remembers that Tony doesn’t like to be handed things. He’d never thought that would extend to hand holding but trauma can manifest itself in weird ways.

“Looks like somebody got some,” Jones whispers to him at breakfast after Tony tosses his head as a response to something Xavier says, revealing a dark love bite half-hidden by his shirt. Bucky glares at her.

“Oh you poor dear,” May tuts. “You’re practically a chew toy.”

Tony blushes bright pink.

Bucky thinks he’s never seen a more beautiful sight.

* * *

“Merry Christmas!” Tony calls as they’re leaving the house.

“Merry Christmas!” May and Peter chorus back.

They take the long walk back to their car. The path’s still a little slippery so Bucky keeps a close eye on the omega to make sure he doesn’t fall. At least it isn’t raining. Tony chatters about the Christmas movies they’re going to watch in the car.

Bucky listens distractedly, the rest of his brain consumed with how he’s going to tell Tony he’s leaving.

* * *

Tony doesn’t seem to notice that he’s preoccupied, too busy singing along to Bing Crosby. Bucky can’t help but watch him sadly. The thought keeps running through his mind that this will be one of the last times he ever gets to hear Tony sing. _Fuck_ but he’s going to miss him. He looks away, pretending to check the side mirror so Tony doesn’t see the tears that have sprung to his eyes.

* * *

At one point, Tony asks him if he’ll be excited to be back in Malibu after New Year’s. “Nice warm weather and all that,” he says.

Bucky opens his mouth to answer, not even entirely certain what he’s going to say, but Tony gets distracted by Buddy the Elf’s journey to New York.

He can’t figure out if he’s relieved or not.

* * *

They’re in Newark, less than an hour from Stone’s Manhattan mansion, when Tony stops looking at his phone and looks out the window instead. There’s a deep furrow between his brows.

“This is I-95,” he says suddenly.

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees slowly.

“This—why—where are we going?”

Bucky casts him an incredulous look. “Manhattan.”

There’s a flash of emotions across Tony’s face, so quick that he only manages to catch confusion, understanding, disappointment before a blank look settles across his face. “Oh,” he says softly. His scent turns sour. Bucky has the feeling that he’s misstepped here but he has no idea where. He opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong but, for the first time in the entire trip, the music cuts out as Tony digs earbuds out of his bag and plugs them in.

It’s silent for the rest of the trip.

It’s almost dark by the time they pull up in front of the mansion. Tony’s quiet as he pulls his luggage out of the trunk. Bucky’s scrambling to say something, maybe about last night, maybe about what he did wrong back in New Jersey, maybe to tell him everything, but all he can manage is, “I’ll bring the car back in a week.”

“Right,” Tony says dully. “See you then.”

Now’s the moment when he should tell Tony that he’s quitting but he can’t bring himself to say it, not when he can remember the months that they’ve shared, not when he can picture Tony’s beautiful body under his.

So instead he just says, “Good luck with Stone.”

Tony’s smile is more of a grimace. He watches as Bucky leaves, figure growing smaller in the rearview mirror. With his arms wrapped around himself, he looks just as young as he actually is and not at all like he’s the richest omega in the world. Bucky wants desperately to turn the car around and drive back there to beg Tony to consider him for his mate but he can’t do that. Tony deserves someone whole, not a vet who gets nightmares about the time he was nearly blown apart.

* * *

He knows the others are watching him concernedly, even Sam which probably says more for how he looks than just about anything else. It’s just—he’d never really thought he had a shot with Tony but that hadn’t stopped him from falling in love and it certainly hadn’t stopped him from hoping that Tony would have pleaded for him to stay.

He doesn’t pay a whole lot of attention to the others as they begin putting the ornaments up but he _does_ pay attention to Sarah, who is entirely too intrigued by the shiny baubles on the tree. She watches them with wide eyes, distracted by the glitter and shine.

“They are pretty, aren’t they?” he says in that voice that all adults use when they’re talking to babies.

Sarah coos back at him. She’s just starting the teething process but Steve says she’s been a little angel throughout the whole thing. “Peggy’s worried that something might be wrong,” Steve confides. “But I talked to your mom and she said that you didn’t complain either when you were teething.”

Nat’s in the kitchen baking lemon bars. She’s been at it most of the day apparently and the apartment is filled with the smell of baked goods. Under that, the layered scents of Steve’s oranges and roses and Peggy’s old books and chocolate blanket the apartment, smelling of _happiness_ and _love_ and _home_. Beneath all of that, he can catch the smells of the others interwoven into the rest to create a sense of _family_ —Nat’s licorice, Clint’s leather, Sam’s apple pie, Wanda’s petrichor, Pietro’s clean linens, Thor’s ozone, his own pine and snow. It’d be perfect if only he could stop sniffing for Tony’s lavender and chamomile. It’s missing, he knows it is, knows that his family would be complete if he could smell the omega too.

He just wants the door to—

_Ding-dong!_

He startles out of his moping as the doorbell rings. “Carolers, probably,” Steve comments. He’s balancing on Thor’s shoulders to get the star at the top of the tree. Bucky’s pretty sure he’s going to fall off and he’ll feel absolutely no sympathy when he does because he’s been warning them about that for years. “Could you get that, Buck?”

He looks at where Sarah’s trying to shove her fist in her mouth in her playpen and shrugs. “Sure.”

He knows it’s just his imagination telling him that he can smell faintest wisps of lavender and chamomile floating through the door. There’s no way that Tony will be there, not when he doesn’t know where Steve lives and especially not with the fact that the board’s deadline is tomorrow.

So when he opens the door to what he thinks is supposed to be carolers but is actually Tony blurting out, “Do you have _any idea_ how many Steve Rogers live in Brooklyn?” he’s completely floored.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demands, certainly too harsh for the omega he’d been crooning sweet words to last night.

But Tony just squares his shoulders and straightens up to his (miniscule) full height, eyes blazing. “I wasn’t lying,” he snaps. Bucky frowns. “I love the color red and I’m completely terrified of butterflies and I’m so fucking in love with you it ruined my relationship. And Rhodey says that I probably forgot to tell you that Ty and I weren’t actually back together, just that he’d agreed to bond with me so that I could get the board off my back because my relationship with him might not have been the greatest but he’s not that much of a dick.”

He takes a deep breath during which Bucky attempts to say something but Tony reaches forward and puts his hand over his mouth. “I’m not finished!” he says. Bucky glances at his other hand, tapping at the arc reactor, the only indication that he’s nervous at all. He shuts his mouth and motions encouragingly. “And I don’t know why you left me in Manhattan when I _know_ that last night meant something to you because I heard you say you loved me and I said I loved you too so…” He looks desperate. “Bucky, was I wrong?”

Bucky tears his mouth away from Tony’s hand. “You didn’t say you loved me,” he pointed out.

“I did! You were—um—” Tony’s gaze falls on something behind him. Bucky just knows that his family’s listening in. He steps outside and firmly shuts the door behind him. Knowing them, Nat and Steve are going to press their ears to the door to try and listen but he has no intention of shouting their business to the whole neighborhood.

“You were in me,” Tony whispers, his nerve clearly having failed in the face of their audience and the way Bucky’s moved so close to him. “You were in me and I called you my alpha.”

Bucky remembers then, the words that had floated away on the air between them that he had missed. He’d told himself that they couldn’t be the words he wanted to hear anyway and so he hadn’t listened closer.

“Tony, doll,” he says quietly, hope stirring in his chest. He runs his hands down Tony’s arms and the omega looks up at him hopefully. “What are you trying to say?”

“I love you,” Tony says simply. “I think you love me too and, if you’d be willing to have me, I want to ask you to be my alpha.”

“This is moving very fast,” Bucky warns him. Tony sighs and nods.

“I know. But the board isn’t giving me much of a choice.”

“Yeah, so we’ll move fast,” Bucky agrees. He bends down to nose at Tony’s bonding gland, relishing Tony’s little gasp. “We’ll move fast and we’ll work backwards cause, sweetheart, I’m never going to get tired of you.”

Tony throws his arms around him and buries a sob in his chest. Bucky holds him close, rocking them slightly in place as Tony trembles. “We’re gonna be okay, sweet thing,” he promises. “We’re gonna make it.” He kisses the top of Tony’s head, murmuring soft reassuring words.

He ducks his head and presses a gentle kiss to the bonding gland. Tony shivers and goes pliant against him. It takes him a moment to realize what that means but when he does, he asks, “Here?”

Tony nods and Bucky has to take a moment to gather himself because _oh god_ a bond is permanent and what if he messes this up? This, the best thing that he’s ever had?

“You won’t,” Tony says softly. He thinks that he’s spoken aloud until Tony continues, “I can see it in your face but Bucky, _alpha_ , you’re so good. You won’t mess this up. We’re gonna be okay.”

He can’t stop himself from kissing his omega, slow and chaste and sweet. He drifts away from his lips to brush kisses across his cheek, down to his jaw, and then finally another one to the bonding gland. It’s starting to swell just a little under his ministrations. He asks one last time, “Are you sure?”

It’s an almost unnecessary question. The smell of _content omega_ is pouring off Tony in waves. But Tony assures him anyway, “I’m sure.”

He’s pretty sure that waiting any longer would be kind of offensive to Tony’s ability to make his own decisions so instead, Bucky fits his teeth around the gland and bites down. There’s a rush of pheromones that tastes exactly like how Tony feels to him and in the back of his mind, another presence awakes. He gets a sense of contentment and pure unadulterated joy from it—Tony, he realizes. He inhales shakily, unable to believe just how happy he is.

He licks over the bite mark to seal his scent into it, noticing that it’s already starting to silver over. Good. He knows it’s really just an old wives’ tale that a fast-healing bond mark indicates a stronger bond but it’s him and Tony. Of course he’s going to believe it. He takes a deep breath, breathing in the combined scents of lavender and pine and chamomile and snow.

“My omega,” he whispers, holding on to Tony tighter.

“My alpha,” Tony responds and kisses his cheek.

His head is crooked into Tony’s neck so he can watch the mark heal. A thought occurs to him that he could let Tony bite him in return. It’s an unusual practice, born out of centuries of belief that the omega belongs to the alpha, but he thinks Tony will like it.

It takes him a minute to realize that snow’s starting to fall softly. He brushes off what little bit has fallen on Tony’s head and then says, “Why don’t we get you inside and get you warm and then tonight, we’ll see about making that bonding official?” His voice has dropped into a low rumble by the end of it and Tony shivers, letting out a soft mewl, scent already beginning to turn sweet with the pre-heat brought on by bonding.

* * *

He’s right. Tony’s scent fits in right along with the rest of them and when Bucky looks up from decorating the tree to see his mate— _his mate_ —playing with Sarah, it sends a thrill through him. As though he can sense Bucky’s gaze on him—and he probably can, Bucky reminds himself—Tony looks up, seeking him out. A bright, beautiful smile spreads across his face as soon as he spots him.

Bucky passes the ornament he’s supposed to be hanging to Clint and crosses the room to pull his omega up and kiss him, for the pure joy it brings him and the fact that this is something he can do now.

He pulls away and grins at Tony’s eyes still closed like he’s savoring the moment. He drops a kiss on each delicate eyelid. “I love you,” he whispers.

“Love you too,” Tony replies, pressing his forehead against Bucky’s.

“Gross,” Sam mutters. Without looking, Bucky picks up one of Sarah’s toys and throws it across the room, grinning broadly when Sam lets out a pained yelp.

“Ignore him,” he tells Tony. “He’s got no sense of romance.”

“Neither do you,” Clint remarks. “Or was it not _Tony_ who tracked _you_ down?”

Bucky scowls but Tony’s giggling so he guesses he can excuse Clint. But Sam on the other hand… He picks up another toy and throws it. He’s rewarded with another yelp. Then Steve’s there, plucking Tony from his arms.

“Excuse us, we omegas are going to go have omega talk. Shoo,” Steve says, waving Bucky off back to the tree before huddling with Tony over Sarah’s playpen.

Bucky doesn’t even bother hiding his sigh of relief that his mate and best friend are getting along. Steve and Tony both have very strong personalities and it would have killed him if they hadn’t been able to get along. But the two had been fast friends to the point that Steve had rudely informed Bucky that Tony had replaced his best friend status.

He looks up from the tree a few minutes later, unable to resist looking at Tony. The omega has Sarah in his lap while he talks with Steve. He’s lovely and perfect and all _his_. He takes a deep breath, catching the hint of lavender and chamomile beneath the other layered scents and smiles.

He’s home.

**Author's Note:**

> * * *
> 
> Achievements earned as part of the Holiday Movie Challenge 2019. Click [here](https://heamarvel.tumblr.com/holiday) for more info!
> 
> * * *


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